Anterior Tibial Tendonitis
by acrylicglowatnight
Summary: Arizona goes on a college tour/vacation in Seattle with her parents. They let her tackle the campus on her own for a bit, and she runs into Callie.


I haven't written in… forever, so don't expect too much. Polite and constructive recommendations are welcome. Warning: I'll be switching tenses and perspectives pretty liberally, so don't bother trying to change my mind about that.

CH 1

a

Seattle is beautiful, sure. Especially when there are people moving around in waves, just out of class or trying to make one. And the plants, too. Nice.

She's wandering the sprawling campus, weighing her observations against other schools, when she hears a voice and turns.

"Hey… I know you. Anterior tibial tendonitis. Right?" she finishes, smiling that big smile and holding out a hand to shake as Arizona nods. "Do you go here?"

"No, I'm on a tour-slash-vacation, as my mom calls it."

"Ah," she says. "I don't see any parents."

"I ditched them for a while."

Callie considers her for a moment, then leans unconsciously forward with a decision and a smile. "Do you want a real college tour?" Arizona looks rather blankly back. She scribbles on quarter-sheet flyer and says, "meet me… at this restaurant at ten."

Arizona squints at the paper then up at Callie. "It's pretty unusual to invite an assigned group project partner to anything a year later."

"Eh. I'm wearing all black. Do you think I really care?" A relenting nod. "I gotta go to class. See you tonight, or not. Bye, Arizona," she finishes and walks around the blonde. She squints back at the paper.

a

It's loud for a restaurant this nice-looking. Or maybe it's just dark, with complicated decorations and half-walls.

She had found Callie and her friend Addison fairly easily, and after briefly explaining the blonde's presence, the two had returned to their previous conversation. About some party that was happening right now.

"Callie, your boyfriend had better not get the place busted before we get there."

"He's much better at keeping things on the down-low than he'd like to admit," she says with a shrug. "And anyway, we could be there before it gets busted but you insisted on going here."

"I guess I don't like underage parties very much," she reflects with a contemplative scowl. "I'd much rather illegally buy you a drink somewhere _lacking_ the vomiting kids and _with_ excellent onion rings."

Callie raises her glass to this. And the conversation goes around, inclusive of Arizona but mostly focused on their rapport. Before too long, Addison fully focuses her attention upon their guest.

"She's cute," she says provocatively towards Callie, with specifically relaxed eyes and a pop of the eyebrows.

"I know, I thought so in high school. I don't know if I was more convinced that you were going to kiss me or if I didn't believe the lie that I wasn't going to kiss you."

"It wasn't a lie."

"I had to tell myself more than twice, it felt like it."

From there, the conversation somehow casually turns away from Arizona entirely, until-

"How old are you?" the older girl asks, a throwaway question.

"Almost eighteen." Sly, hesitant, with just the slightest hint of defiant flirtatiousness.

She exchanges a glance with the woman, and Arizona vividly remembers hair curled slightly around the face, long smooth tresses all around bleeding into a band shirt and studded black jacket. Motorhead with a fringe. Thrifted, for sure.

Her clothes are slightly more understated now, at nineteen-point-seven. Smoother fits, calmer blacks, tamer hair, less eyeliner. She knows how to drink, even more than she did at seventeen.

Suddenly she wants a drink, and reaches questioningly for Callie's glass. "No I'm not giving you whihiskey," she laughs at the end, eyebrows pointed up in the middle for a moment or two, brilliant smile that completely negates her outfit.

"Lighten up. Cranberry and vodka, kid," Addison says in her low voice, and Arizona downs two gulps.

They finish their drinks in much the same way.

"Meet you bitches outside, I've got to use the little girls' room," Addison throws at them as they head for the side exit. The other two continue outside and promptly lean against the spare gray metal railing.

A good twenty seconds pass.

Lights and ambient noise are never too far in the city, but it's relatively dim and quiet where they're standing.

Arizona turns suddenly, full of an impending monologue posed as a demand for clarity. "Look, I didn't expect to see you today…"

Callie steps closer.

"For old time's sake?" Callie says, but the question is in the hand on her cheek, in the way her eyes look slightly elsewhere but at Arizona simultaneously, in the bright lights in the distance and in the slight wind on their faces. So Arizona pops up on her tip toes to kiss her.

It lasts for more than a fleeting memory. For the hell of it turns into pulling lips and hands in hair at the base of the neck and just one touch of teeth to the lower lip before the door opens, and Addison takes in their open mouths and momentarily downcast eyes.

"Really, Callie?" She shakes her head slightly, and Callie giggles a little.

"Oh shut it, let's get home."

a

When they get "home," the apartment is already swarming with people, just quiet enough for Arizona to know that they want to have a good time, not get busted by the cops. She mostly observes for the next two hours or so, getting into some conversations but not uncomfortable with the wallflower effect. She'll probably never see most of these people again.

Her boyfriend is the kind of guy who's trying just a bit too hard. He'll probably train seeing-eye dogs in his late thirties instead of drinking enough to just endanger his job, but pretends to lean towards the second for reasons indiscernable. He leans in, across an armchair containing a drunk couple to kiss Callie. Oh yeah.

A little while later, Callie approaches her.

She's holding a red cup by the rim, extended towards Arizona's face. "Try this."

c

"You like it, don't you?"

Blonde bangs curled away from her face, a slightly frizzed ponytail, a blue long sleeve shirt, the kind with three tiny buttons at the v, the slightest hint of femininity but a solid two and a half inches above any cleavage. This type of kid doesn't mesh with her scraped couch, the deep colors, what's happened on that furniture. But she's there, her slight hunch and touching knees making the couch even larger around her. But she's drunk two full glasses of rum mixes, and the kid can't have had more than a glass of wine at a sleepover with her horse-loving three best friends, the kind who swear off boyfriends and make-up through sophomore year.

Then again, she doesn't actually know anything about this girl.

She nods, hands wrapped around the red cup, bending the plastic even with her gentle grip.

There are only a few less than ten people left in her apartment. It's getting late and the alcohol is mostly gone.

"Hey babe," George is back. He wraps around from behind, and Callie rotates for a kiss. "Looks like it's clearing out. I should really get these assholes," he nods towards a pair of guys against the wall, one drunk in a bit of a slump on the floor, "across campus."

"Mm, better do that, Ben's overdone it a bit," she says with a slight smirk.

He reaches around her and kisses deeper, one hand sliding, until, "all right. See you babe."

She gives a little wave as he walks off, then sits in the chair accompanying the couch.

A pause.

"My parents would kill me if I came back now," eyes on the hour hand pointing at three. "I told them I was going to my friend's house, but she went to bed already." Callie exhales as she stands. 

"Well I have a couch. And… a blanket in here…" she says absently, getting up and walking towards a narrow door at the beginning of the hallway. Arizona receives the distinct impression that the offer comes from a laidback attitude rather than conscious generosity, though she's certainly been the latter today.

Callie walks back over and hands the blanket to Arizona, who says seriously, "Thanks," before setting it beside her.

"Nah." It's quiet. "Good night."

a

She sets two stained white mugs on the small table, one in front of Arizona, then continues around the corner.

Black coffee. She peers into her thin-walled mug, light steam atop a slight sheen on the surface. Decides not to ask for milk. Callie might not even have it, just an open bottle of vodka sideways in the fridge.

She returns, walking across the room, not bothering to give an explanation of what she's getting or doing.

"Oh hey, can you pull out the yogurt from the fridge. There's bread on top if you're more of a toast person," she says as she heads into the short hallway once again.

She does indeed have milk, even vegetables.

"Oh, shit, I'm gonna be late," she says, looking at the clock as she closes the fridge door. It's a few moments before she remembers to turn to Arizona. "Um." She starts, with thinking eyes and a slightly disgruntled twist to one corner of her mouth. "You can stay here I guess, I have… a couch you can sit on." A beat. "Or you could come to my lecture with me, it's Greek mythology, very eurocentric…" the eye roll is perfectly audible in her tone, "you could get a sense of classes here?" she tosses out casually, straightening a throw on her couch and shrugging on another black jacket, ignoring the red cups strewn about.

With a little smart-ass lilt: "You're taking a whole class on the origins of your name?" Callie leans her head and turns up a palm, like _what can I do_, like _gimme a break_, like _name jokes already?_ all in one. "Yeah, that'd be cool." Callie eyes her then slowly nods.

"All right, well we've gotta head out pretty soon."

Callie is not very conversational as they walk across campus. The closer they get to the class, the grouchier she gets. Arizona is inexplicably amused by the slightly crooked shield sunglasses she dons to face the morning sun. The only thing she really bothers to grunt is "this is the problem with Friday morning classes."

The class is informative enough. Arizona notices that despite Callie's hungover demeanor, she gets down copious notes in pretty letters.

When it's over, Callie asks her what she thinks of the class. "Better than our sports med teacher." She looks like she was not expecting that, then laughs and raises her hand for a high five.

"Amen to that."

"Well, I should go catch up with my parents."

"Maybe I'll see you around," Callie says with just a touch of flirtatiousness, as though she can't resist using her charm.

"Maybe I will. Thanks for everything, Calliope," she says with at least the same concentration of charm, and starts to turn away after the other girl has rolled her eyes.


End file.
